A Look in the Mirror
by Gindokei
Summary: She was cracking inside, the pressure was getting to her... but will a look in the mirror save her? Or will someone else have to help? Troyella. Oneshot. Formerly 'Bright Starlight'


_A Look in the Mirror_

**AN: So here's another oneshot! I should really write longer stories... but oh well?**

**Disclaimer: Ahahahahahahahahaha... um, do I really need to say this? I don't own HSM or any of the characters... I wish I did...**_  
_

She looked up at the ceiling, a tired sigh escaping her. She was spread out across her bed, her arms stretching on either side of her body, lying on her back. Gazing at the cracks in the ceiling, trying to make out a pattern.

But no pattern yielded itself to her. Only chaos – she could only see chaos, everywhere she looked, be it in a still pool or her cracked bedroom ceiling. Chaos. Discord. Disarray. That pretty much summed up her life at the moment.

She raised herself so that her elbows and lower arms rested on the bed, staring straight ahead now. Her bathroom door was ajar, but she merely looked at it dully. Turning wearily, she now fixed her eyes on the large French windows that led to the balcony, and the gently swaying tree directly outside.

The tree Troy had climbed up to convince her to reconsider the callbacks, she remembered with a faint smile. The grin slid off her face quickly, though – now there were no musicals, no singing, and no fun whatsoever. Not even any Troy, anymore.

They hadn't broken up, exactly – they were just taking a break. For the past few weeks, she had felt so pressured about her studies, feeling that her grades were slipping horrifically. Troy had understood. He always understood her. He was the only one.

Gabriella Montez rubbed her swollen red eyes, sighing again. How she wished she could sleep! She glanced at the clock – it read 1:03 am. She could still get in a couple of hours of sleep. Slumping down on the bed again, she was soon fast asleep, her brown curls strewn across the rumpled bedcovers.

Her insistent alarm woke her at 6:15. Rolling over, she yawned and stretched, flexing her left arm, on which she had fallen asleep. Methodically, she got up and crossed the room to her cupboard, withdrawing the first pair of jeans she saw and the shirt lying on the top of the pile. She paused by her desk, picking up her brush and running it through her messy hair a few times. She hurriedly drew the curtains to the French windows and changed, casting a few wary glances to the bathroom door.

She hadn't been in her bathroom for ages. When she had to go, she would use the spare bathroom downstairs, where there was barely room for a shower, a toilet and a sink. She didn't want to enter her bathroom for one reason – she would have to look at her own reflection. And she didn't think she could bear that.

She didn't want to see the tiredness in her eyes, or her limp and unkempt hair flung over one shoulder. She didn't want to see the resignation in her stance. She didn't want to see what she had become.

She groaned in frustration, forgetting that she had to reach school in forty-five minutes, forgetting everything. She brought her clenched fists down on the smooth wooden surface of her desk, concentrating all of her pent-up fury into that one strike.

Expectations! Ever since the previous year when she had joined East High, people had expected things of her. She _had_ to come first in every class – she _had_ to be smarter than the rest of the school – she _had_ to be different. Better. The best.

It drove her crazy. Was she still just the nerd? Hadn't she escaped that reputation? But no – her teachers always had a disappointed look in their eyes if she scored anything less than 90 on their tests, muttering about "too much recreation time". But didn't she have the right to have fun, like all of her classmates? Didn't she have the right to spend time with her boyfriend, with her friends, go to parties, and relax?

No. Not Gabriella Montez. She had to study, study, study, until her brains spilled out of her ears. She bit her lower lip, the salty tang of blood filling her mouth. Her lip was bleeding. She stopped biting and raised one hand to wipe at her mouth, resisting the urge to gag and move towards the bathroom to spit out the blood. The repulsive taste of it seeped into her tongue, making her feel sick. She growled softly and gave up, deciding to wash away the taste with a few glasses of water.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

She floated through the entire day, barely paying attention to anything, so tired that her eyelids drooped at least three times in every class. At lunch, Taylor tried to engage her in conversation, but was rebuffed rather rudely when Gabriella fell asleep with her cheek resting on the table, snoring softly.

Taylor gazed at her, frowning worriedly. Troy ambled over, his sandy brown hair still messy from basketball practice. His blue eyes were anxious as he stopped by the sleeping brunette and stroked her hair. "Is she… _asleep_?" he asked disbelievingly. Taylor nodded.

"I'm worried. She doesn't talk at all during school… every time I call, her mom says she's studying… and I've called about a million times every day. Either she's ignoring us… or something more serious is going on."

Troy settled down next to Gabriella, watching her quietly. "She told me that she needed a break from our relationship… she said that her grades were sliding… but she's the best student I know…"

Taylor gaped at him. "Her grades? Sliding?" she spluttered. "She actually thinks that? Mrs. Gayle told me yesterday that Gabriella scored 99 on her English test, and _no one_'s ever gotten that much! Ever!"

The blue-eyed basketball player furrowed his brow, thinking deeply. "You think it's just a phase?" he finally asked her, cocking his head slightly. Taylor shook her head.

"I think this is a real problem. She's over stressing herself. It's not good for her! You can see for yourself, she's probably not getting enough sleep…"

Troy nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on Gabriella's slumbering form. "I'll see if I can talk to her today, after school."

Taylor sighed. "Good luck with that… I don't think her mom will let you in, though," she said bitterly. "She didn't let me in, and all I wanted to do was say hi, not have an in-depth chat with her. I think her mom's pushing her too much."

Troy patted Taylor's hand gently. "Don't worry. I know another way to talk to her." And he suddenly had a sly look in his sapphire eyes. "I'll see you, Tay." He got up and ambled away, pausing only to brush a kiss on Gabriella's head. The girl stirred slightly and whimpered quietly. His face softened and he whispered something inaudible to Taylor. Then he gave her a friendly nod and moved off.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

Gabriella sat at her desk that afternoon, her eyes closed, her hands cupping her face. Mathematical equations swam in front of her eyes until she felt dizzy. Her brown eyes opened slowly, gazing at the inside of her hands, contemplating when she had fallen apart.

That was the worst part – she knew that she was crumbling inside. But she was powerless to stop it. Her mother didn't help – couldn't help, really. All she did was hurt Gabriella more. "Shouldn't you be studying, dear?" "Oh my, only 90… only 90…" "Sweetheart, you should apply yourself more…"

And she knew what she had to do. But she was terrified. She couldn't look herself square in the face in the mirror – she didn't want to see her weakness.

But she had to. Trembling slightly, she gripped the edge of the chair, pulling herself up slowly. The distance from one end of her room to the other suddenly seemed vast, like a yawning chasm separated them. Gabriella took one hesitant step, then another, and another, her eyes on her bathroom door.

Finally she reached the other side and clung to the door handle, still shaking. She pushed the door open cautiously, her eyes on her feet, bracing herself for the first look.

Gradually, she raised her eyes, fixing them on the silver sheet of glass across the bathroom. What she saw made her catch her breath in terror.

Disheveled hair, puffy eyes. Exhaustion radiated from her body. Her eyes even had a slight wild glint to them, implying that all the studying was close to driving her off the edge. She gave out a little cry, reaching out to touch her reflection with her hand.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she wept, her sides shuddering. What had happened to her? What had she turned herself into? She slid her hand down the mirror, gazing her reflection straight in the eyes. But she could not hold her own gaze for long and dropped her eyes, her body still racked with sobs.

A soft but persistent tapping came from her balcony. She turned blindly from the mirror, stumbling out of the bathroom and wrenching open the balcony door. She was met by the astonished gaze of Troy Bolton.

"Gabby? Gabby!" His voice rose in alarm. "What's happened to you?" He drew her closer and let her head rest on his shoulder as she cried. He stroked her hair and murmured gentle words in her ear, hugging her to him. She tried to tell him how glad she was to see him, but the words she managed to choke out were unintelligible. Troy didn't say anything but merely smiled down at her reassuringly.

Her tears began to subside after a few minutes and she tilted her head back, smiling tremulously up at him. He beamed back, but his blue eyes were shadowed with worry. "Hey… Gabby, what's wrong?" he asked softly. "You know you can tell me, right?"

She nodded slightly, shifting from one foot to another. Troy waited patiently, studying her closely, remaining silent. Finally she began to speak.

"It's just… everyone, everyone expects things of me. Gabriella Montez, the genius… they all expect me to get top marks in everything, and not have fun myself. They want me to be different." Her voice cracked. "But I don't _want_ to be different! I don't want to be what they all want me to be, Troy, I want to be me, me, Gabby Montez…" She stopped, unable to go on.

He nudged her gently, his eyes understanding. "But what happened right now?" he queried quietly.

She took a deep breath. "I've been studying… studying like crazy… for the past few weeks. Maybe I decided that everyone was right, that I _should_ be the best. But I've been avoiding looking at myself… in the mirror… and today I did. It – it scared me, what I saw. I'm a wreck, a mess, and I don't know how to undo all the damage I've done to myself…"

"Hey," Troy interrupted her slightly hysterical rant, placing one hand on each cheek. "Hey, hey, hey Gabby. Slow down. You were scared of what you saw in the mirror?" he repeated, a little confused. Gabriella nodded meekly, and then the tears began to flow again.

"I c-c-could have killed myself!" she sobbed, scrubbing at her cheeks in a vain attempt to mop up the tears. "I could have… oh Troy, what have I _done_?"

Troy didn't reply, but wrapped one arm around her waist and held her own hand with the other. He pushed open the balcony door and led her across the room, towards the bathroom again.

At the door she began to tremble again, begging him not to take her inside. He didn't reply and directed her gaze towards the mirror. She fought him weakly, her eyes averted from the mirror. But finally she yielded and timidly glanced at her reflection.

She gasped softly, her eyes darting to Troy beside her. He smiled down at her and nodded at the mirror. She turned back with wondering eyes.

There was no more chaos in her reflection. The Gabriella in the mirror was tired and wore messy clothes, but she had a happier light in her eyes, and she seemed so complete next to the reflection of Troy. He stood tall next to her, lending her strength, making her world orderly again.

After a few minutes she turned away, gazing back at Troy. He understood the message in her eyes and led her back to her bed. They both settled down, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

Gabriella was free to be herself again, and it was all because of the boy who sat next to her. She searched his face and grinned slightly, kissing his cheek.

"That look in the mirror helped a lot, Troy… thank you. I know something very important now."

"And what's that?" he asked, laughing softly, his eyes gleaming at her.

She answered softly, "Who I am. And that _you_ make me who I am."

His teasing expression melted away and a tender look replaced it. He reached over to take her hand and pulled her towards him.

"Always, Gabby. Always."

**AN: There you go! I wasn't very happy with the ending... I think it was kind of weak... but you're your own worst critic, right? Hope you enjoy!**


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